


tumble into my heart (the sky so wide)

by sangiebyheart



Series: as if it met you in whoever's dream [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, First Meetings, Flower Magic, Gen, In that they are children, Kid Fic, M/M, Pre-Relationship, prince!Chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-20 12:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30004590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangiebyheart/pseuds/sangiebyheart
Summary: What happens when Lee Minho pushes people into bushes for his own enjoyment, Lee Felix falls but finds a soft cushion to land on, and a certain prince admires even the smallest of nature's creations.Or, one fateful afternoon, Lee Felix discovers an oddity hiding in a bush and promptly gifts him a daisy.
Relationships: Bang Chan & Lee Felix, Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Series: as if it met you in whoever's dream [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2207076
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	tumble into my heart (the sky so wide)

**Author's Note:**

> part 2 of the prince and guard chanlix series! i would advise you read the first part before this one, if only for context. <3
> 
> stating once again, this is a reupload from last year, with changes to the pairing. 
> 
> enjoy!!

This story begins with a prince in a bush.

Or, more to the point, it begins with his unexpected discovery by the son of the king’s head of guard, under circumstances as unremarkable as they come in comparison to those that brought him into the bush in the first place.

That is, at least, if one considers being _pushed_ into those bushes unconventional – which Lee Felix, the aforementioned son and freshly turned eight-year-old, does not. And if it weren’t for the bright-eyed prince yelping as an entire body unexpectedly falls on top of him, staring back at Felix with panic written all over his princely features as Felix challenges him with his own glare of confusion, Felix’s priorities would lie elsewhere, namely with the rude kid that pushed him to begin with – not the soft cushion he has landed on. He faintly registers Minho running away with a devilish cackle, one that he has perfected in the ten years of his short yet already mischievous lifetime, and which always somehow manages to be at Felix’s expense.

His focus is on the prince, however, though he does not recognize the boy as the heir of the throne until he has already spent thirty strikingly uncomfortable seconds caging him against the ground, thin twigs digging into his sides as the tiny body under him makes no attempts to move, either. Felix takes in the white silken shirt he is wearing, fitting just right to his tiny frame, the immaculacy of his haircut ruined and tousled and leaves sticking out of the shock of blonde hair – Felix is smart enough to conclude that he has someone of royal standing below him, but what truly gives him away as the crown prince is the silver necklace gracing his neck, a white crystal and a tiny wolf lying restless against the fabric of his shirt.

Struck with the realization that he is currently crushing the crown prince, Felix rushes to say, “Oh Gods, you are—”

Only when Felix hears the familiar boisterous voice of his father calling the school’s playground to attention, their position changes – although not quite in the way he would have expected, because the prince scrambles to get up and promptly pulls Felix deeper into the bush, huddling between the large green leaves to hide. Men and women of the king’s guard file into the yard, with their shields and swords by their sides, entirely out of place amongst the many children gazing at them in wonder as they cease their playing.

Felix feels the boy twitch in anticipation, shoulders shaking anxiously as he watches the guards announce their search for the crown prince. An easy conclusion is it then, that the prince does not wish to be found.

He whispers an urgent plea to Felix to help his case, “Please. Do not tell them I am here.”

In the shadows, the prince’s eyes appear as black as the night’s sky, complete with stars sprinkled all over his irises, reflecting the one odd beam of light or another that manages to sneak through the maze of leaves covering them. Felix gives him a nod, a silent reassurance that he will not be the reason the prince’s presence is going to be detected, and the prince’s shoulders sack with relief. Nonetheless, Felix knows his father’s guard is of the best their kingdom has to offer, and they will not fail to discover the prince simply because he is concealing himself through nature’s gifts.

Despite never having given it explicitly, Felix is eager to keep his promise and the prince from being found out – which is why, as soon as one of the guards is nearing their hiding place and the prince shrinks into himself, Felix jumps up and about, stumbling out of the bush with minuscule grace and a voluminous scream.

What follows is utter confusion, as a grown woman almost falls off her feet in shock of his sudden appearance. To help the illusion of the playful, misbehaving child, he goes for his best impression of Minho’s signature cackle as he dashes away from the guard, sticking his tongue out as he goes. The guard chases after him once she has recovered from her stupor, as she has seemingly forgotten about her intentions to search the surrounding area for the prince. It is an inevitability to run into his father as soon as the head of the guard realizes the troublemaker disrupting their search, and he catches his son in his arms when Felix tries to evade him.

He listens to his father’s scolding with a bowed head and a shameful expression, eyes darting back and forth on the ground so he does not take a suspicious glance back at the prince’s hiding place. Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices the guards joining their supervisor one by one, reporting of lack of success in locating the prince – Felix has to bite back a smile once they have all gathered around them, and his father pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. No doubt Felix is going to hear the full story tonight at dinner, no doubt his father will lament his misery by pointing out that as _head of the king’s guard_ , he has far more important duties to attend to, besides going on a wild goose hunt for the kingdom’s heir.

Felix’s mother, the queen’s personal guard herself, will then remind him of the privilege they have inherited, and that no task is too small or too insignificant – those descriptors are unfitting of the type of situation Felix’s father has to handle anyway, as the flight of their crown prince should never be taken lightly, no matter how childish of an occurrence Felix’s father deems it.

As a last straw, Felix’s father then turns to his son, stern gaze searching Felix’s face now that the playground has not given him what he wanted.

“Have you noticed anything odd today, son?” The deep gravelly voice of his father asks him, much more subdued and lower than before. It is an imitation of the tone of a father, not quite matching its warmth since he is still on duty and has to maintain a certain composure in front of his underlings. Felix finds it a difficult task to decipher the inflection on which his father’s words are carried, and therefore decides to tread carefully just to keep him and his new companion safe. Although the entire guard’s focus now rests upon him, Felix hopes the prince is not foolish enough to make an escape attempt.

To make matters more difficult, his heart makes its presence known as it crawls up into his throat at a staggering pace, beating faster and faster every step of the climb, though Felix schools himself not to let it show on his face.

“No,” he answers his father. “I was playing all afternoon.”

Felix has learned the valuable lesson of honesty from his parents – he knows they rely on him to do the right thing and never deceive them, so he hopes his father believes him now that he betrays their trust right in front of his eyes. It helps that what he has told his father _is_ the truth; up until Minho thought it funny to send him into the bushes face-first, Felix had enjoyed himself. His lectures had been rather boring, so he had much looked forward to letting off steam while playing in the sun.

Was it odd that he made acquaintance with the crown prince in a most unconventional manner? Perhaps. Everything is of a relative perspective though, and Felix does think it is more concerning that the prince is fearful of the people who are supposed to be there to protect him.

His father regards him for an excruciatingly long moment, expression blank as he attempts to figure out his son’s own oddness. A weight falls off Felix’s shoulders when his father, at last, nods at him, then inclines his head to send him off. Felix truly tries to keep the grin off his face as he dashes away, locating Minho in the puzzled crowd of children and joining him there as they watch the guards leave the courtyard one after the other. His father stays back for a moment and shoots his son another questioning look, which Felix counters in the least defiant way he can muster up. This earns him a sigh and a shake of his father’s head, on top of an unforgiving call of, “We will discuss this further tonight.”

His father is gone after that, however, so Felix counts his wins for now and does not dare to think of the unpleasant conversation he will have in the evening hours.

He does not approach the bush right away, just to be safe. His father is a man of cunning – or else, he would not have made it head of the king’s guard – thus, he might have noticed his son’s attempts at diversion early on, but still lead him to believe Felix has successfully tricked him. A scheme of deception in its own standards, one that would lead him to the prince through Felix, just when the two of them consider themselves exempt from discovery.

Ten minutes, he lasts, until the itch he cannot scratch becomes unbearable. He is almost unable to stop himself from running, excited to properly meet the prince and find out the reason for his distress, but he remembers to quell the urge before he arrives at the object of his fascination.

“Your Highness?” he wonders aloud, stood in front of the bush with his back turned towards where he supposes the prince to be – subtlety is key, just as much as the formalities. His parents have taught him so. “Are you still there?”

A meek, “Yes,” is all he receives in return, though it is enough to set his thundering heart at ease. Felix has always imagined the prince to be a confident soul, loud and bright as all royals should be, but the figure crawling out of his hiding place before him is anything but this well-crafted image. He appears anxious, hunched over, arms crossed in front of his chest because he does not seem to know what else to do with them – what is more; he does not meet Felix’s eyes, not even as he says, “Thank you.”

And although the prince does not look, Felix smiles wide at him, pouring all of his joy into the simple gesture. “My name is Lee Felix,” Felix introduces himself, sticking out his hand towards the prince until he remembers himself and bows instead, albeit clumsily. He hopes the prince will tolerate his inexperience. “I am glad to be of help.”

Finally, the prince raises his head and catches his eyes, words tumbling out of his mouth hurriedly, “There is no need to—to bow.” His cheeks bloom with a rosy color and he turns his gaze away in embarrassment. “I am not—a prince. You must have confused me with someone else.”

A hearty laugh falls from Felix’s lips, as he replies cheekily, “Is that why you were hiding in the bush? Because you were _not_ the person the guard was looking for?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” The prince asks him in return, voice smaller than his entire posture. Felix feels for him, though he does not know why, and he is unsure how to ask without breaking the fragile shell the prince has built around his heart. The prince scratches the back of his neck, uncertain how to go forward with this strange boy who has helped him for no other reason than kindness. Felix just watches him shift from one foot to another with a puzzled expression, and decides to indulge the prince.

He says, with a slight grin, “What is your name, then? I have told you mine, it is only fair you tell me yours.”

The prince does a double take, not quite believing his ears. He blinks through the disarray of his mind, and goes to attempt and connect the dots. “But—I thought you know who I am.”

“And you said I was mistaken,” Felix plays innocent, encouraging his prince with another warm smile. “You may not be a prince, but you certainly are someone else of note. I should know your name.”

“Someone of… note?” The prince repeats dumbly. His voice still shakes as he gains the confidence to speak louder. He sounds decisive when he gives Felix his name, “I am… Christopher. But you may call me Chris.”

“Christopher!” Felix snaps his fingers. “You are lucky! To share a name with the crown prince must be the highest of honors!” He says. The prince – _Chris_ – blushes some more, but a smile blossoms on his face to chase away the edges of anxiety, so Felix is inclined not to tease him again.

“I suppose so.”

“Are you going to tell me the reason you hid in that bush?” Felix asks without caution. And… no one has ever gotten hurt from a _little_ more teasing, so he adds, “Were you playing hide-and-seek with the guards?”

“No!” Chris cries, appalled. “I—I do not know if I should tell you, though.”

“You do not have to,” Felix hurries to assure. “I am just curious. It is not every day I find a strange boy in a bush who definitely does not happen to be the crown prince, too.”

“My father always says that curiosity kills the cat,” Chris replies, a chiding saying spoken by an unchiding tongue. Felix’s own father has scolded Felix’s younger brother with those exact same words, and poor baby Jeongin’s heart still finds it hard to comprehend that no actual cat has found its demise at curiosity’s hand.

Felix, on the other hand, is a big boy, and he has grown to understand what it means and has also decided for himself that it does not hurt to be a bit eager for knowledge – be it at the expense of an imaginary cat. But he is also patient, or at least, he tries to be. If Chris is unwilling to share anything besides his (second) name, Felix must accept that.

“We can go play something if you like!” Felix suggests when the prince starts to fiddle with his necklace. “I could introduce you to Minho. He pushes others sometimes but otherwise, I promise he is nice!”

“Will he tell?” Chris asks. If he were in Chris’s place, he would be far more concerned about becoming the victim of Minho’s weirdness. He does not fault the prince for having his priorities sorted, though.

Felix inclines his head and beams at Chris, “Tell what?” Hoping the question is pointed enough for the prince to understand its meaning. Its promise.

By the way Chris’s shoulders relax and his lips quirk up in an easy grin, Felix knows he has succeeded, and his chest feels even warmer. “Come!” he cries a tad too enthusiastically, but bold as he is, he then proceeds to reach for the prince’s hand.

He is thoroughly unaware of the beautiful and delicate flower which has materialized in his palm while he was not looking. It is only when the prince is not so easily dragged away and openly marvels at the flower presented to him instead, that Felix notices the white fragility of a daisy squished between their palms.

Felix’s intention had not been to produce a flower, that is for certain. His subconscious seemed to have other plans, however.

Taken aback by his body’s own betrayal, Felix promptly lets go of Chris’s hand as though it was scorching hot and stumbles back a few steps, his heart hammering against his ribcage in fear. Never before has he let anyone see what his hands can do, afraid of what they might do to him once they discover seeds of magic within his bones. And now, of all the people, he has bared his entire soul to the _crown prince_.

They are at the end of a long and warm summer. Daisies are a rarity to find these days, as Felix is sure the prince will know.

In reality, Felix knows it is but a few seconds until the prince shows him a proper reaction, but time stretches into eternity as Felix bravely awaits his trial – the tables have turned, as he is the one scared of being found out now; in any other situation, he would have laughed at the irony of it.

“A daisy?” The prince gasps – it is a strange sound, one of unconcealed fascination for such a mundane little thing, breathy and quiet but out there for Felix’s ears to hear. “How pretty!”

And somehow, those two simple words, paired with a blinding smile that could rival the sun itself, have Felix go speechless. The remnants of his trepidation trickle out of him in an agonizingly slow but deep breath as he watches the prince turn the flower over and over in his tiny hands, examining every small detail as if it holds a special meaning and must not be overlooked. Felix has never seen anyone with quite the same amount of attentiveness to a task so seemingly insignificant.

“Do… do you like it?” Felix asks, nervous and wringing his hands and because he feels like he needs to say something. The origins of the question are obscured, appearing out of thin air right there on his tongue. The eagerness with which he expects his answer is, to his fortune, safely tucked away somewhere in his heart, where the prince cannot reach.

Or, so he believes.

Chris blinks at him, eyes still shining with happiness. “Yes,” he proclaims honestly, thrusting the flower into Felix’s direction for him to gaze upon it more closely, as though Felix could not perfectly see his little mistake glaring at him from where he is standing a few feet away. The prince appears to finally take notice of the distance between them, so he closes it without a second thought, only coming to a stop when he is stood right in front of Felix. “Thank you,” he says and grins. “You do not have to be nervous. Your secret is safe with me.”

“M-my secret?” Felix whispers. Just when he thought the prince does not suspect him, Chris makes his pulse quicken yet again.

However, he is quite unprepared for Chris’s reply, soft and genuine and oh, so _wrong_ , “Jisung sneaks into the garden all the time. He brings me flowers, too, even though he is not allowed to. I will not tell on you. So long as you do not tell on me.”

Felix almost laughs at the absurdity of it all – of course, the prince believes he stole a flower from the palace’s gardens. Of course, the prince does not come to the conclusion that Felix has conjured it up from nothing.

Felix would be a fool to correct him. “We have a deal,” he chuckles.

“Good.” Chris tucks the daisy behind his ear, still smiling so widely that Felix can see his dimples. “Shall we go play now?”

Felix nods hastily, and makes to grab for Chris’s hand a second time today. He does not know how long they have until Chris will be discovered, but he is going to make the time with his new friend count.

At some point, long after Minho and Chris have been introduced to each other – and Felix made Minho swear up and down not to push their new friend into a bush – Chris turns up at his side, daisy still sitting behind his ear and glowing in the sun, and whispers to him.

“You may call me Chan, if you like.”

And Felix finds that, maybe, gifting the prince flowers might just be his new favorite thing.

**Author's Note:**

> scream at me in the comments. thank you for reading! stay safe, take care. <3


End file.
